


Damnatio

by FlamencaMortem



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Cults, Dark, Dominant Kylo Ren, Eating Disorders, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Hypnotism, Isolation, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Medical Device, Mental Anguish, Mental Coercion, Misogyny, Occult, Post-Apocalypse, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Worship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamencaMortem/pseuds/FlamencaMortem
Summary: In the post-apocalyptic world, Rey is sold out to a secretive cult. She is determined to escape but when she catches the attention of Kylo Ren, professed demi-god and spiritual leader, she fears she may not be able to escape his manipulative grasp.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	1. The Auction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/FlamencaMortem)

My world is wrapped up in dry heat. Two words but I can make it shorter: dry-heat. The sun comes up. The grey clouds diffuse the piercing light. Eternal. Eternal clouds. The winds pick up an hour after the sun comes out. The heat spreads and pools. Night comes and the heat retreats back to the sky. Any comfort sapped immediately.

There is little comfort found out West but the green outhouse was comfort. It was home. It shielded me during the day and against the sandstorms and the freezer cold winds of the night. The first time I saw a freezer was with Plutt. Brown-yellow teeth. Rotten breath rolled over the junk I dragged in. ‘Want to feel real cold?’

But how did we get on the topic? I don’t remember now.

‘How cold is it?’

‘Come and find out.’

Real cold was trapped in a 5 by 5 foot room. With shelves of cold meats, vegetables, and stacks of paper.

Now I know how hot it is. How hot it always is outside. Not like the first time I saw rain, but it’s hard to focus on that memory when hot winds whip against my bare arms. And the other girls are wailing. The copper bars dig into my back but I don't care, I want to recline on them. I don’t want to stand and yell. My throat is dry.

When was the last time I had water? I don’t remember now.

The blonde girl holds on to the bars and rattles them with the tiny strength she has left, “Let. Me. Out. My father! They’re all waiting for me. Please. You have to. Let. Me. Out.”

Something stabs my chest right below my sternum. Big word. Sternum. I try to read words like that when the Relief Saints roll by. With their big, no need to think of a different word, their massive caravans.

Jakku is a shithole, that’s another word I know. Learnt it from Plutt. It’s a short rest stop on the way to somewhere greater. To the colonies and the cities of the West. The cities pale in comparison to what stood beforehand– running clean water. Running electricity. Constant too. It was never disrupted by a sandstorm and people could light up their home with multiple lamps. Not like the small electric lamp that had to lay sideways with two rocks balanced on it to work. It wasn’t much but it was still a comfort.

Siphoning off electricity to my ‘home’ was easy. Especially after I spent a few months with the Real Saints. They taught me how to deal with electronics and gadgets. Gadgets was the word Eliso used. ‘Once we restock and make our trip back I’ll be sure to pick you up. Then we can have you work as a mechanic. Play with all the gadgets you want. You have a natural talent for it.’

When she comes back, I won’t be there waiting and she’ll think I abandoned her. She'll think I'm just another wasteland scrounger. I lay my hand on my arm, at least she left with a precious gift. She offered it to me for half the cost. I was happy to give up all I had saved for that small reassurance. The stab to my stomach comes back and I rummage through my hidden pocket for a small pill. 100mg Caffeine. Once you get past the hunger, the day is easy. I swallow the pill, begin counting, and bounce my legs.

The hunger isn’t an obstacle, it’s a tool. Raiders don’t want a girl who looks like a boy. I keep thin, keep my hair short, my shoulders square, but my waist tucks in slightly. And the light budding breasts, they won't go away. If they looked closer they’d be able to tell. Lucky for me, people don’t look closely. In Jakku you keep to ‘yer fucking business.’ I do the same or I did the same until Plutt made me part of _his_ business.

Plutt stands on two wooden boxes and uses a microphone that I fixed for him, for half of a meats-on-a-stick, to gather customers. He begins yelling about great 'quality', 'tested', 'pure', 'docile', and all kind of adjectives that don't apply to us. The blonde continues yelling. She reaches out past the bars and grabs the shirt of a man unfortunate enough to walk by too close. “Please.”

She has an ugly crying face and the snot running down to her mouth makes it worse.

I try to focus on bouncing my legs, even when my head bounces against the bars and strains my migraine. Once the hunger dies down I’ll grab the guard's key. They won’t sell me today, no, not today, too skinny. They tried to force-feed me but I bit them, so they hit me. I won’t be sold. It’s imperative to remain all angular and pointy, so the bones jut out and poke whoever tried to get near. ‘No man wants to lay with that’ Plutt whispered to the feeding guards when he came to take us to the market. Imperative, the word swirls around my mind. Another word I learnt from the Real Saints.

Used to be useful to Plutt, used to be needed, the hidden agreement shattered once he found out I was a girl. Then he’d want to show me what real cold felt like. And when I finally accepted I felt the cold air, was briefly relieved, then the guards came. Followed by me screaming. Then the camp. The camp was full of other people, and I was forced to sit with the girls. Always screaming and crying, girls.

I want to jump up and slap the blonde. There is no-one left for you, I picture myself yelling, your father sold you! Don’t you understand? Girls are useless to fathers, except as cattle. But it’s easier to sit and bounce, hurts less, wastes less energy. Once I count to 200 the hunger recedes and I stop bouncing.

A group of three walk through the market and the crowd parts for them. The sand and dirt clings to the hems of their outfits. The man with red hair, red, so vibrant like the neon sign outside of the casino, leads the others. He begins bidding against the other ‘respectable’, as Plutt calls them, customers. 12 others go before me.

“That’s all the girls.” The guard calls out to Plutt. Every time he moves I hear the jingles of freedom – belt, left side, above his pocket.

“Count again, Stocks said there was 13.”

He counts but misses me. I can’t help but smile.

“I’m telling ya, there’s only 12. I just counted them with my own eyes.”

“Then why did Stocks say there were 13?”

“He coulda been wrong. People can be wrong ya know.”

Plutt spits away from the small crowd of buyers and jumps down from the boxes. He thrusts the microphone in the guard's hands and begins counting. His fat fingers hover over the boys and men hunched over like wilting plants but stop when he gets to me.

“Ah, you couldn’t see her ‘cos your eyes are wrong.” He smacks the guard on the head and gestures to me. I don’t cry when he stomps toward me, but I can’t help a wince when he digs his fingers into my arms. He drags me out of the cage and thrusts me onto the yellow-orange sand. I don’t pick myself up. If I can show what a defective product I am, who would want me? I only need one opportunity to snatch the key.

Plutt pulls me up by the back of my sack dress because he can’t pull me up by my hair in front of the customers. The red man stares impassively, unimpressed by the performance. He wears all black and his outfit, foregoing his hem, is the cleanest I’ve ever seen. On his right, a dark-haired man also clad in black watches the men in the cage. And on his left is the strangest thing I’ve seen all week: a tall figure all done up in robes. Covered from head to toe in light brown. It occurs to me they’re part of the Order.

‘I-deer-log, sick-of-fans.’ Eliso whispers in my memory. ‘Keep away from them. You’ve already heard of them?' She shakes her head, 'Of course nothing good, of course! Rey, they’re – I hate to use this word – but they’re crazy. Turning to religion isn’t the answer, some mystery god isn’t going to cure our planet.’

The tall figure sticks out. Even with the brown rectangular cloth mask covering their face, I can feel their eyes on me.

Masks aren’t allowed in Jakku, masks aren’t allowed in any neutral zones. How did the Order get special permission? Or they don’t know it’s not allowed? Or do they know and don't care?

The red man argues with Plutt.

“No. We want the boy. We were here first. I’m claiming the right of firsts.” His voice is smooth and controlled, he points to a muscular boy leaning against the bars.

“Hold on! Hold on! You’ve been pickin’ up all the good ones – you cultists cunts can’t dance in here, disrespectin’ the rules.” A stout Jakku native looks up to the tall red man and points at the masked figure, “Yer wearing a fuckin’ mask.”

Plutt jumps down and separates them, “Calm down.” He turns to the red man who looks wild-eyed at the native, “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes, I fucking do!”

“You insipid backward little,” The red man begins losing his cool before Plutt plays peacekeeper again.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re both fine gentlemen. Excuse me, lemme talk to him.” He leads the native away from the Order members. But neither men know the concept of stealth or whispering, so everyone can hear them.

“Yer still owin’ me for dealing with Glen.” The stout man 'whispers.'

“Let me fuckin’ speak with the guy. You'll get your favor.” Plutt rolls his jaw before returning to the red man. “They’re both the same. You’re getting the same quality if you get the girl. Same size, same everything. Well, maybe not parts but-”

The red man is breathing hard through his nostrils, “No. We have 1 woman. We don’t need a little girl.”

“She’s not little, just underfed.”

“I was told I would get quality here.”

“Now– don’t abuse my hospitality. She was from outside."

The red man looked at me, still pissed, “No. I put the bid up first.”

Plutt gestured toward the men, “Anything else I can tempt you with?”

The red man does not reply. He only stares at Plutt.

“You folks need-“

“Don’t presume to know our community.” He shuts Plutt down, “I think we’ve made enough purchases for now.”

The red man turns away, a common tactic used to press merchants to run after you. If they ran after you that means you win. You know they’re desperate then you get proof of it. Plutt falls for it, he must be desperate to get rid of me.

“She’s good with electronics!” Hearing this, the red man stops, “You folks need someone who knows about old tech? She knows.” Turning back to me he drags me off the ground by my hand, “Filthy scavenger. Taught herself. You can even keep a close eye on her, give her a little food to sate some hunger but not enough to run.”

“Absolutely not. If you know us half as well as you claim you do, you would know that’s impermissible for wom- that's impermissible within our walls.”

‘Are-Kay-Ick.’ Eliso described them to me.

I want to dance with joy. No one bought me! I can grab the keys later at feeding time. Open the door two hours before the sun rises, all the guards are sleepy around that time, run back to the outhouse. Won’t be able to stay at the outhouse but that’s okay, it was my home for only 2 years. There are other homes out there. And I’d rather die in the desert than in chains.

The red man walks back to his friends when the tall figure approaches him. Plutt shuffles to my side and pinches my arm, “You think this is funny you little shit? Yeah, you do.”

I smile up at him.

“You’re getting twice the feeding. You hear that? Stocks is gonna tie you up and shove it down your throat.”

No.

I spit in his face, the last bit of moisture left in my body, he reels back “You bitch!”

He slaps me and I tumble backwards into the sand. I can’t stop the dry sobs. I don’t want to eat. I want to be out of here, I have to get out of here!

The tall figure puts out a gloved hand and the red man approaches. They have to lean down a little to whisper in his ear. Plutt grips my jaw and forces me to look at him. He continues to berate me in the dry heat with the sun beating down on the tin roofs of the market stalls. When the sun sets, I have to get out.

“Plutt.” The man comes back, he stands a foot or so taller than Plutt. He blots out the sun and his red hair glows.

“Changed your mind?” Plutt released my face.

“Potentially. The girl,” he gestures towards me with his head, “untouched fruit?”

“What?”

The red man sighs and tilts his head to the side, “Virgin?”

“Yes!” Plutt almost yells to the world.

“We will need confirmation, give us the medical report. Only then will we take her, along with the others.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Plutt has the most triumphant smile, his brown teeth gleam under the noon sun. They almost sparkle. I’ve never seen brown sparkle. Fuck that, I don’t want the Order. I don’t want to live anymore. But I can’t fight right now, I’m so tired, so hungry. With a dry swallow, I force my anger down, there will be opportunities to escape tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/FlamencaMortem)


	2. Prodding Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/FlamencaMortem)

The Order’s compound is immaculate. The roads, because there are roads here and not dirt tracks, are clean. It’s so orderly that it makes me feel like human waste. Bushes and trees line the roads and small houses. The compound is probably smaller than the outpost, but it feels like its own contained city.

The journey from Jakku to the compound is disorienting. The men and women are separated into two carts and a guardsman sit with each group. They throw a thick black blanket over the cage. It gave some protection from the heat and the cold. The same masked figure offers us water, I try to resist– try to reject whatever they mixed with the water, but … the sun. The heat is overbearing. And I hadn’t eaten or drank in a few days and there were no more caffeine pills. I felt like I was in and out of sleep for days or was it hours? I don’t know, but that’s what happens when you’re drugged. When I finally come to, the clean cold metal floor of the cage is the only respite against the surrounding heat. 

The other women stop whispering once I lift my head, not that it matters, I don’t want to know their secrets. Their escape plans that are gonna fail. Better to try and escape on my own, less shit to carry. Less weight dragging me back. Less company. My hand snakes forward and lifts up a portion of the blanket to watch the surroundings. In the distance is a great grey square. We are approaching a fortified compound on rising ground.

The outside walls are a collection of shades of grey. It stands out like a jagged rock against the sea of yellow-orange sand. Like the cars that littered the highways of the desert. It made my stomach turn; I was reminded of all the times I cut myself when scavenging. The compound stands up straight and blinding light bounces off the metal roofs of the guard towers. ‘If you get too close you will slip and cut yourself.’ I feel it warn me. 

I wonder: is the tower to keep people out or keep people in?

I can’t watch much longer as an older woman slaps my hand. If I got caught, we would all be in trouble.

‘Keep away from them.’ Eliso’s advice rings out in my head. And I failed.

Once we’re inside, the women’s cart goes left and the men’s goes right. Pressing my head against the cold floor, I squint through a small gap in the blanket. Besides the small sliver of trees, roads, and houses, I notice that we pass a secondary set of gates. Inside the compound the roads are smooth; not a single bump upsets my empty stomach. So empty. Need a pill soon.

The cart stops suddenly, and the light strikes my eyes as two guardsman lift up the blanket.

“Leave the young one behind.” One of them says and gives me a stern look when I try to stand up. The other women are dragged out and he cage is locked again. Darkness returns as the blanket drawn over the door again. What do they want with me? Where are they taking me?

“Go on.” A guard slaps the side of the cart. The driver smacks the donkey and we are moving again. I wish I kept the water in my mouth. At least then I could have had something in my belly. Recalling the feeling of my stomach stretching, I wince -it was so painful. How could something supposedly comforting make me feel so uncomfortable?

I try to remember the guards’ routines, try to remember what Eliso advised me, but I can’t. Not anymore. The hunger is too much. What are they going to do me?

After minutes or hours of travel, the cart stops. The blanket is suddenly thrown up and the familiar brown-robed figure stands in front of the door with their hands clasped. I shuffle to the back fo the cage like an insect. The terror of the blinding light, of what they have in store for me, drives me to flatten myself against the metal, as if I flattened myself hard enough I could fall through the metal and run.

A deep feminine voice commands the guards and they rush in. They pull me out of the cage by my legs, the back of my thighs rubs against the rough floor. Across the cold metal, my hands scrape and my nails thrash out trying to grip onto something.

There isn’t a chance to look around as a red blanket is thrown over me. They have a lot of blankets. Lucky for them, they will never have a shortage. My feet barely touch the ground as they lift me to into a building. The guards leave and the commanding feminine voice tells someone to ‘decontaminate her. I will examine her later’.

Two tentative hands pull the blanket away. The room is a white fresher and tiled. A short young woman greets me, her face is round and her voice is sweet. Reassuring. 

“This way please.” She stands next to the shower. 

I shake my head.

“Please.”

My legs feel like cotton as I make my way next to her.

“Please step inside.”

She looks like she’s around my age. She turns the water on and jumps back when I begin gasping, trying to drink as much as I can while I have the time. 

“Slow down!” She yells, suddenly throwing her hand over my mouth. I gave her an irritated look.

“Please, we have water. We have food. You don’t want to make yourself sick. Let’s get you clean, and then we can have dinner.”

I do not respond.

She smiles warmly, “My name’s Rose. What’s yours? Did I hear Mother Phasma right, you’re from Jakku?”

“No.”

“Where are you from?”

“I dunno.”

She looks down then begins trying to undress me.

“No!” I slap her hands away.

“I’m sorry, but I have to. For the decontamination.”

“I don’t care.”

She pinches her brows, “Fine! Just keep your underwear on. But you have to take off those rags.”

With that compromise in mind, she washes me. Occasionally she pokes me when I try to drink the water. How rich are these people that they can use water to bathe? And still have enough water left behind to drink and cook. After the shower, she force dresses me in an outfit like hers. With a weird hat like an abandoned satellite, long dress, and cape. Then she leads me outside.

The compound is green and e-mark-u-late. That was something Eliso said once, I think. Trees and hedges decorated the roads. Like the old roads but it’s smaller but still large enough to fit a caravan.

“Please don’t look around like that. Keep your head down.”

I copy the way she looks. With hands clasped and head down. She leads me into another building separated by a small track to the decontamination building. The inside is clean and lined with wooden furniture bunk beds.

“Stop playing with your bun-it.”

“Bun-it?”

“Yes, BONnet. The thing on your head. Only take it off at the presence of your husband.”

I don’t have a husband I want to say but I begin looking around. There are two doors. One door is an exit, but I can’t say what the other one is. There are windows but they’re covered with dark material curtains. I have to get closer to them to see the towers - I have to look for the guards, their set routines, I wonder if they have a guard change, what weapons do they carry-

“Do you like it?”

“No.”

“It’s not as fashionable outside.”

Oh, she’s talking about the bonnet.

“Why am I here? What do you want me to do? I can’t cook, but I know how to work old tech.”

Her eyes widen, “No! Don’t touch any tech.”

We sit down on wooden chairs and a few minutes of silence pass.

“What’s your name.”

“I dunno.”

She plays with the corner of her cape, “Please. I gave you mine earlier.”

“Fine. Rey.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

More silence passes.

“Why the fuck am I here?”

She puts her hands up in defence, “Please don’t swear. We can’t do that. We have to wait for Mother Phasma.”

“What does she want from me?”

“Well,” she bites her lip, “we’re in the upper quarter. You’re probably going to be married.”

“But I-”

“Save your breath. Gods know that did not help me. Oop-” she covers her mouth, “Please don’t tell them I said gods. I meant God.”

Gods. So she came from a tribe, only tribals believed in the gods of the ground and the sky. What was a tribal doing in the compound?

“It’ll be our secret.” I smile knowing she slipped up, it was something I could use, “If you’ll tell me something.”

“Yes?”

“I get scared of coyotes. Is there only one wall protecting us from the outside?”

“Oh,” she looked up and licked her lips, “I don’t know. I can’t say, I never saw much of the outside walls. But don’t be too scared, the guards shoot coyotes and stragglers all the time. Not that they don’t deserve it, they’re always trying to steal water or girls. You should be more concerned about who the priests say you’ll marry.”

“And who am I gonna be marrying?”

“Well… a few come to mind. There’s Hux. That man who brought you here. Reigne. But he is too much of a recent convert. Andre, but he has horrible allergies. Not that it stops someone from marrying him but his sneezes are horribly loud. Finn, he earned his freedom from slave to free man. And of course, Kylo Ren.”

I chortled, Eliso taught me that’s what I did - ‘it’s an ugly kind of laugh but you make it pretty.’

“That’s a stupid name.”

All colour drained from her face, “It’s not a name. It’s a rank.”

“This cult is stranger than I thought.”

“Please don’t say that.”

Suddenly the other door slams open and the tall brown-robed figure walks in followed by a girl dressed like us. The mask is tied up, and I can see that the figure is a woman. Rose freezes and closes in on herself.

“Sister Rose.” She said.

“Mother Phasma.” Rose replies, she does not lookup.

“Is the girl ready?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Phasma indicates for me to follow.

Weirdos.

She takes me to another room without windows and a weird seat in the middle. It looks long enough to lay on but has weird metal parts on one end.

I can’t stand the weirdness anymore. “What do you want with me?”

“Despite Plutt’s reports we need to check you ourselves. There’s nothing you can say to get out of it. Kaydel will check you today.” She turns to the other girl, “Make it quick.”

The girl nods and stands next to the chair expectantly. With an annoyed sigh I follow, the quicker I get this done, the quicker I can figure out a plan and run away. I’ll have to get a canteen, maybe three, I don’t know how far away the compound is from other settlements. No, I need a map first. 

Phasma is impatient. She forces me to lay on the cold plastic and spreads my legs. Now I know what the metal is for. It’s uncomfortable, to have my parts exposed like that. Forcing me to open. To a stranger. I felt myself instinctively go to close my legs but Phasma pinches my thighs open. 

I wanted to run, get up and run away. Oh fuck. At that moment I realise this escape won’t be easy. This won’t be like running away from Plutt. These people are serious and they will force what they want.

Eliso was right. More right than I could ever guess.

Kaydel is different from Phasma. She is gentle, or as gentle as someone can be when they’re checking your parts. She makes it quick but Phasma forces her to check again because ‘it’s too quick. You might miss something. Try again.’

I feel empty, like a fruit without a pit.

“Have you ridden a bike?” Phasma barks behind my head, her hands pressing down on my shoulders. When I don’t reply she barks again, “Speak girl.”

“No.”

She sighs contently, “Her hymen?”

I know that word. Eliso taught me about that stuff when she gave me the gift.

“I’ve ridden motorcycles. Sorry, Mother Phasma. I’m damaged goods.”

“She’s good, clean.” Kaydel’s voice whimpers.

“Good enough. As for you girl, watch your tongue.”

Fucking bitch.

Phasma lets go of my shoulders and I scuttle out of the metal to sit on the edge of the chair. “Check the rest of her.” Phasma says.

Kaydel whispers‘sorry’ as she pokes about my body. She grabs my arm and runs her hand up until she reaches the implant. The gift. She looks bewildered then Phasma speaks again, “Is something wrong?”

“No, she’s completely clean. No BC either.”

A bold faced lie but I am grateful for it.

“Needs to gain some weight. But that’s it.” Kaydel steps away with her hands clasped.

“We’ll see, the Hands might like her if she can shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/FlamencaMortem)


End file.
